Fantasy Stones of Incienda

[LyricalLyric]

Kaidalar Galanis

Location	Masquerade - ballroom, seating area
Company	Speaking to Jian
Tags	LieutyXII

As the man before him cleared some space on the table, Kai felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He accepted the man's welcomeness and placed his plate of foreign foods down on the table's surface. In a swift motion, Kai slid down into the seating. As it was of a Vinsumi style, the furniture was rather different from what he was used to back home. He fumbled for a few moments trying to get comfortable in the unfamiliar dining seating, clearly making it known to all peering eyes that this young man was not well versed in the culture of others. Sitting cross leged, Kai held his posture upright. This felt natural, and it seemed to be how the man across from him was sitting, therefore it must be correct. A slight huff of air, a stiffled chuckle, escaped Kai's mouth as he brushed off his temporary foolishness. He meant not to offend or mock, praying the man sitting opposite of him did not pay it any mind.

For that matter, it dawned on Kai that he must look like a glutton with his wide assortment of cuisine presented before him. Two sentences is all he had spoken as of yet, and all that danced across his mind was what this stranger thought of him. A bad habit of sorts, and one that came to be rather self destructive. Always thinking of the view others have of him, Kai worked hard to try to be liked by all. Kai scratched at his head, and readjusted his mask. He dared not begin eating his share of food until he felt comfortable enough to do so in company.

"Well met indeed. I am Jian Ishikawa, second prince to Vinsumi. Might I ask your name?" The prince's words dragged Kai away from his thoughts. Kai found himself rather surprised to have already met another prince, ignorantly unaware of the fact that the seating he found himself in was reserved for nobility. He had simply walked in and no one stopped him.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ishikawa." Kai beamed in response, thinking little of Jian's nobility status. "Please, call me Kai. I hail from Anahaly." He hoped he was not rude in not telling Jian his last name, or the fact the he was indeed a fellow prince. Withholding information when Jian was so candid felt unfair. Throughout his life, Kai never liked introducing himself as such, for fear that it would be the prince of Anahaly and not Kaidalar Galanis they would see. Call it shame, but Kai liked not the added pressure of presenting himself as nobility. It simply didn't feel true to himself. Kai felt slight guilt at withholding some information, though it was a masquerade ball after all. The appeal of anonymity would make this a party to remember.

Kai readjusted himself, recovering from any awkwardness he may have created, staring now at the food before him. "It's not everyday you find yourself sampling the foods of all the other kingdoms. Pray tell, what do you recommend first?" Kai smiled warmly, asking honestly for Jian's input. Hopefully this would be a good start for conversation, as well. Expecting Jian to recommend food of his homeland, Kai hoped he could learn more about the broader culture from which Jian hailed as well, the food was only a small piece of what made one's culture.

 

[supermartinbros]

» Asta Ariti

『 The Grand Fool 』

Location : Buffet and Masquerade
Mood(s) : Confused and Happy
Mention(s) : N/A
Interaction(s) : Hallbjorn

The brunette seemed surprised at first when the man had a heartful laughter before having a moment of relief flood through her heart as he didn't seem to angry with her. He bowed down and took Asta's hand as she tilted her head, she had no clue why he needed her hand. Did her hand have something she glanced at her other and and it wasn't dirty... so... Why did the man suddenly bow down and grab her hand. She just took it as a curtsy perhaps it was. She knew enough that she was a idiot to realize a few things. She smiled behind her mask. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt me considering I'll just fling off back to the ground." she reassured him.

Asta nodded, "I'm sorry that I bumped into you again... My name is Asta!" she said her gaze on the strange yet cool looking mask. She felt her hand released and in that moment she realised how small she was and how huge the man was. Suddenly the size difference was clearly visible.

"My name is Hallbjorn Osbjornsen. I'm the third prince of Ajna, and also the largest. "If you had bumped into my elder brother that's also here you would of had a better chance of knocking someone over."

That moment Asta felt her heart begin to wheeze and ascend to heaven. He was a prince and here she started duck walking, bumping into him, and surely she felt her soul rise to the heavens above. But perhaps he didn't see her duck walk. Maybe he didn't! That's when a small hope of relief spread throughout her heart. She... she was duck walking but anyone could be paying attention to anybody else.

She then bowed a little something her brother instructed to do when he met someone high of ranking. "I-I'm sorry I definitely did not know that." she said, her voice was mixed with many emotions, surprise, confusion and embarrassment but no fear. After the bow she looked up smiling, "But still, I wouldn't want to knock someone over, uhh, sir prince." Having no clue how to address royalty.

code by @Nano

 

[idalie]

Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Mateo
Mentions: BELIAL.

Magnhild of Thirsk​

Her thoughtful meanderings were quickly interrupted by that of another foreigner; a man of russet complexion, though the pleasantly groomed appearance and quality doublet proved complementary to his healthy glow. Strong cheekbones, squared jaw, and broad figure⁠—one ought to have mistaken him as a soldier instead of aristocrat. The stranger moved in a gracious, slow rotation toward Magnhild’s periphery, his effort not unnoticed when it came to the silver gleam capping what remained of an empty socket. However, she was not a woman versed in cultural niceties, turning what remained of her cold stare on the sidling noble, slowly hitching her brow subtly upwards at the following cough.

The fixed eye subsequently narrowed as he started to speak⁠ of lords and their backhanded games⁠—she ought to have believed it an excuse to make her night marginally worse, yet the offer to walk away and return with tail between his legs was enough to halt her immediate rejection. “I am never the ‘butt’ of any joke,” Magnhild cagily replied, voice a husky purr of Ajnan enunciation and lower register, “Are you as gullible as you are handsome? I do not play into the bets of silly boys,” She jutted her chin out slightly, nursing her wine further with the lip of the cup resting against her now purple blushed mouth, “Yet if you’re here just to gawk, your excuse is pathetic. I’ve heard far better, they start with more flattery⁠—and they end with an inability to produce heirs.”

Magnhild tipped her head owlishly, giving what vision remained a chance to behold her temporary companion in better detail, “I do not dance. I do not suffer fools kindly. And I do not enjoy unannounced gentlemen,” The pewter goblet upturned, draining the dregs of its contents, “But,” And the sole word halted her jarring tangent, “I am bored. And you seem wise enough to be none of the things you describe your brothers believing.”

She proffered her hand, ragged with calluses, “My name is Magnhild, and you too are new to this place, hm?” She gazed upward, motioning to the high ceilings and across the ballroom in a vague wave of her free palm, “What do you think? Have you been impressed or are your ballrooms and halls that of finer craftsmen? The gossip runs like ale here, the silks, the velvets, the debate over whether the Sultan ought to have chosen eggshell over ivory,” Her lips quirked, “Tell me what difference is there, and why eggs and elephants are at all similar?”

 

[BELIAL.]

PRINCE MATEO MONTEIRO

Location	Masquerade - ballroom
Company	Magnhild
Tags	idalie

Taking in the woman in front of him, her hair like the most vibrant of colours he’d seen in a long time, he found himself most captivated in the shine of her eyepatch. This close up, he could identify the fine workmanship that went into it. Details like the fine thread used, stitching leather together to form the strap, and the use of actual silver for the patch. He wondered instantly if it grew too cold to the touch at night.

Dragging his attention from the eyepatch to the woman’s words, he found his stomach dropping at her response. The smile he had attempted, forced now, had already begun to wriggle to a straight line very slowly. In his attempts to avoid some amount of embarrassment on both of their parts, perhaps being too honest for the Ajnan looking woman, he’d seemed to have already offended her.

Worry painted his face, and he flapped his mouth like a fish as he fought to come up with a fervent apology.

Though a smirk did sneak at the corner of his lip when she spoke of him being gullible and handsome.

Yet he still stood there, wondering if his brothers had been right in their bet on him being a fool, wondering if they were laughing already or holding out hope for a bigger display of rejection. The small amount already cut into Mateo like a blunt knife, but his fear was more of offending the great woman than his own pride.

The tone then changed, as he heard ‘but’ spill from her lips, suddenly finding his attention squarely on her in anticipation. As she went on, he found his smile returning-- brighter and more gracious, pulling at his cheeks as he eased out a laugh.

He took her hand eagerly, feeling the cut of her callused knuckles, more fascinated by the story of this woman than he had been a few seconds ago. Clasping his other over it, a sentiment of respect, he dropped them after the stiff shake, placing his own hands behind his back.

“It’s all prattle to me, if I’ll be honest,” he said with his gregarious smile. “Never been one for courtly mishaps on dinnerware colours or matching the tablecloth to the napkins. I’ve heard it a thousand and one times and I still will never understand.”

He relaxed his shoulders, fidgeting with the simple mask on his face. It was the same green as his doublet, though accented with a bit more gold to hint at status, at the very least. That mattered the least to him. He’d have taken the damned thing off if he could.

“But to answer your first question… New, yes. New to these? Hardly. I prefer dancing more than most, and the music sings to my soul as well. The people can be the most fascinating as well. From all corners of the kingdoms, here is the greatest chance to meet someone so… Well, fascinating.”

He held his gaze, maybe too long, on Magnhild before looking down sheepishly.

“I apologise for staring. I cannot help but… admire the craft on your eyepatch. You must tell me, who made that beauty?”

 

[idalie]

Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Belinha
Mentions: Zodia195 Dextra BELIAL.

Ihsan al-Din Sayyed​

“You’re far too humble, yet homesickness is a terrible ailment⁠—no matter how acute,” He sympathised, though if only she knew how much he itched to be out from under the thumb of his father and royal duty. He’d been far too long cooped up in Mulada, mostly due to the worries of what would entail in diplomatic apologies if the prince was ever entrusted to go anywhere alone. Compared to his sisters, the eldest of which had studied abroad without issue for months at a time⁠—jealousy was a dreadful thing. Instead he was placated with other duties, and an allowance which shrunk every time he got tangled in another scandal.

Nevertheless at the revelation of a name, Ihsan’s eyes lit up something wicked, “Mercedes, are you to be a lady of many mercies? Or few?” Yet he found himself interrupted, as their dance slowed to accommodate conversation with another pairing⁠—one that the young woman remarked to be her sister, but her warnings were enough to incite his cowardice of courting. The chase was all well and good, the gentle, crooning flatteries and gifts he’d shower in every attempt to take someone's love for himself. But brothers, he’d been chased by plenty. And uncles. And fathers. Cousins twice removed, even.

Take good care of her? He nearly grimaced to himself, take good care of her and have his face bruised⁠—and then what would he do? Women were partial to scars and bruises but a broken nose would always be crooked. And his nose was precious, certainly, he had a rather pleasant nose⁠—it suited his pleasant face in a pleasant sense of conceited vanity.

An awkward, nearly gritted laugh next exhaled from the prince, “One of twelve, you say?” The uneasiness comically grew, “You know I’m rather parched, Sayidati!” Ihsan took her by the hand, halting their rhythmic steps to graze the lips of his gold mask against her knuckle⁠—warm breath and hot skin the only knowledge that he was at all human behind it.

“Why don’t you come with me to welcome some guests! Then we ought to have a rather tall drink, najma⁠—look, across there, must be an ambassador with one of our noblewomen, you haven’t met many people here, have you, Lady Basurto?” And with all great hopes considered, he could shirk responsibility onto the fellow Muladi woman in her gold veil or the apparent Sasuren aristocrat.

He held out his elbow, “Isn’t this enjoyable?” Wheedling out of any blame with a beeline and an off-handed wink, “Better than sitting alone in that alcove, no?”

 

[Zodia195]

Location: Masquerade Ball

Company: Ihsan idalie , Faith Dextra , Emira BELIAL. , Stella aurivee_
​

While Noirin wasn't a very loquacious person, she was very observant, and she noticed how the girl's face fell a bit when mentioning where she was from. Her gut told her there was more to this story, but she was never one to get into anyone's private affairs. It was just rude. Noble Sasuren women could be notorious gossips and were always curious about each other, especially the royal family. Noirin's younger sister, Aisling, who was 19, while very sweet, loved to gossip and always kept her 'abreast' of the latest news regarding the royal family. One story that never went away was the absence of the crown prince and heir, Prince Faithri. The prince hadn't been seen publicly for 15 years now and there were some thought the worst, but Noirin knew that to be one fat lie because if he was dead, then the Royal Family would have said so. Noirin knew she had known the prince since the age of 4 since her father once took her to his workplace and the Royal Family just happened to show up that day too and Noirin met then 6-year-old Faithri. The memory itself was foggy, but her family did remind her of it. She had also seen him a few more times after he stopped showing up publicly but hadn't seen him since she was 12. She hoped he was okay. She knew that someone from the royal family was here for it was required that at least one member of the royal family attended the annual festival, so maybe she could find out who it was and ask how Faithri was. Still, she knew she was running out of time to do that because in another hour or so it was going to be midnight. At least she thought it was. And she definitely wanted to see the fragments before that happened.

Turning back to Stella after she introduced herself, Noirin nodded in acknowledgement before finishing her meal.

"Well, I am finished eating. I think I'll go walk about the room once more and then go see the fragments. You're more than welcome to join me if you want to." Noirin said before standing up, leaving her empty plate, cup, and used utensils to be picked up by a servant.

She waited to see if Stella would join her or not.

---

Belinha giggled about her comment about her 'name'.

"It's a family name. It's tradition in my family to get one and it's one of my aunts' name."

Her seemed a little nervous about the idea of her having 11 siblings. She knew that not all families had that much, even in Histadel, so it might be a bit unnerving to hear you were 1 of 12.

Her thoughts refocused on Hassan when he mentioned meeting more people. Her eyes widen at that. She looked to see where he was looking and also noticed two finely dressed folk.

"You're a lifesaver Sir Hassan! No I haven't met a lot of people. During the festival I mostly helped my parents'. They were vendors for the first time this year and were very successful. And when I did have off, I was too busy exploring the festival grounds with my siblings and didn't have much of a chance to interact with anyone other than my family."

She took his offered armed and giggled, "Yes very enjoyable."

As they approached the pair, Belihna's eyes were drawn to the woman first. Again she recognized fine craftsmanship. However, all thought existed her mind once her eyes met the woman's eyes. She suddenly felt a bit lightheaded but managed to keep her stance. She couldn't look away either fore it felt like something struck her in the head. What was wrong with her?

Shaking her head and snapping out of it, she smiled and addressed the man and the woman.

"Good evening. I hope we weren't interrupting you."

She said the last part to the man. While she recognized the woman as a local due to her attire, she couldn't place where the man was from, only that he too wore splendid clothes. She was beginning to wonder if she looked decent enough to be seen in the company of these people.

 

[BELIAL.]

EMIRA

Location	Masquerade - ballroom
Company	Flaithrí , Ihsan , Belinha
Tags	Dextra idalie Zodia195

Despite the man looking more than appropriate for the masquerade, as Emira noted he was far from out of place amongst all the other gilded costumes and fantastical masks, he seemed to hold the same amount of nervousness for the evening. Faith managed to convincingly seem as out of place as she, though she heavily doubted that he too had been duped into attending alone. Left without a shred of company, perhaps, but far from an imposter.

She listened intently, eager to hear his story, before Faith’s attention was pulled to mention of a duck. It caught Emira off guard, her eyebrows knitting together, following his eye to see a strange girl walking like she’d thrown her back out and was several decades older. Emira hadn’t the time to summon a laugh, finding incredulous sights more unnerving than comical, and she spent a moment wondering if that was some thing that those from out of the kingdom did; some dance or some way of walking. Though Faith had chuckled, Emira was too busy feeling a strange sense come over her in that same moment.

A rush and a push to the head, and if she were not standing so steadily it would have made her sway, Emira couldn’t help but look at the girl and feel… that she knew her. Some sort of resemblance, though she knew without a doubt that she’d never seen that person before. The emotion was disorienting, and sent an unhappy gnarl into Emira’s gut. With more effort than she would have liked, she ripped her gaze from the girl back to Faith.

He continued to speak, smoothing over the lapse in conversation, though Emira was finding it hard to focus on what he was saying. His mention of doing anything wrong, in such a location as the masquerade ball, made Emira instantly resurface the worry that had niggled at the girl’s walking.

It wasn’t as if she wanted to stand out, or that she wanted to appear to be anyone other than herself. It was a growing roar in her head to want to rip the mask off, unsure how she felt about the lack of identities around her, but Emira steeled herself. Finding Faith’s eyes and the silly mimicry he did, she willed herself to relax again. Was this not why her brothers had sent her in on her own? To have some amount of fun?

No, it was a cruelty; a way to laugh. They knew of her reservations and they knew that she never thought about the stupid things she agreed to do.

Inhaling deeply, holding her hands together to stop the shake that had begun, she let herself release a little laugh at Faith’s own joke. Clearly that meant that he was not serious about the girl’s duck walking being an actual thing, right?

“I would agree. I do not wish to find myself among those dancers, so help me--”

Emira trailed off then, her voice quieting to a hush, when she saw two attendees advancing toward them. Wait, were they? Or was it just her eyes? The amount of people here made it hard to judge who was talking to who, or who was advancing on who. Yet, the longer she waited, the closer they got. A girl in a beige dress and a man, Muladi, with a full covering mask. It was unnerving.

Did Faith know these people?

She sent an accusatory glare at the other man, her heart jolting in her chest-- made worse when she focused on the girl in the Muladi’s man company, and how it gave that same feeling as she had felt with the duck-walking girl.

It was too much, and Emira could feel her breath beginning to grow short.

Her legs had turned to stone again, glare sliding from Faith to the two approaching. Perhaps she was glad that her mask was inverted, so that her emotions could be displayed. It was better than the full masked man, to which she avoided eye contact with. The girl was no better, giving Emira the strange lightheadedness.

"Good evening. I hope we weren't interrupting you," spoke the company. Emira grimaced.

Torn between going with her gut and heading off, Faith in tow, and being locked in place to not make an utter fool of herself, Emira let the words blurt from her mouth.

“You did. Interrupt.” It was true, they had-- but the words had a side of bite to them that not even Emira could regulate. Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply again.

“I mean-- Well… yes, we were… Talking.” Now she avoided looking at the girl, turning her attention to Faith for some amount of remedy to the situation. Emira’s face burned scarlet, heating up beneath the fabric draped across her cheeks.

 

[aurivee_]

Stella Ainsley
The Masquerade
Interacting with: Noirin Zodia195
Mentions: Various

---

"Oh, I'd love to!" Stella replied, a bright smile on her face. Pushing herself up from the comfortable cushion, she began to walk alongside Noirin.

As they strolled through the ballroom, Stella took the time to observe the people around her. Several specific individuals caught her eye. A young woman dressed in elegant Vinsumian garb, who appeared to be discreetly listening in on the gossip and banter taking place between the ball's patrons. Another woman in gorgeous Muladan attire and an inverted mask, conversing with a Histadelian girl dressed in beige. A woman wearing vibrant colors and a silver eyepatch, discussing the ballroom's craftmanship with a man in regal wear. And the girl that had caught her attention before, looking embarrassed and sheepish.

As her gaze landed on each one of these young women, that strange feeling hit her again. Like she knew these people, but couldn't remember where from. Which was odd, considering she had absolutely no memory of any of them.

This was getting awfully strange. She tried to deduce what was similar about these people, what they all had in common - but came up with nothing, other than the fact that all of them were young women around her age or a few years older.

She didn't bring up the matter at all. She was afraid she'd sound crazy if she tried to talk to Noirin about it. It did sound pretty weird, after all.

Her mind turned to the fragments, which Noirin had mentioned she'd like to see once they completed their walk. Stella, too, was interested in the fragments - like everyone else, she knew the story behind them. Because she'd never attended the Incendia Festival, she'd never gotten to see them in person.

Once again, her train of thought changed course completely, as if it had somehow grown wings and flown to an entirely different track within seconds.

"So... you're from Sasuren, right?" Stella inquired curiously, looking towards Noirin. "I can kinda tell from your dress - super pretty, by the way. Anyways - what's that like? I've never actually been there, but I've heard the floating islands are beautiful."

 

[Dextra]

Flaithrí

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

• .
• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• home (filler tab)
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  mood

  
  
  
  
  

  Doesn't have a clue what he's doing, needs help.

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  outfit

  click

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  location

  
  
  
  
  

  Ballroom, Mulada

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  interactions

  
  
  
  
  

  Emira, Ihsan, Belinha

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  tags

  
  
  
  
  

  BELIAL. Zodia195 idalie

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• home (filler tab)

Queen

I'm going slightly mad

"this is a dialogue,"

It was obvious that the two people did not belong here. Flaithrí was sure he'd rather be somewhere else right now, or even if it wasn't seen as rude, sat at one of the many tables reading, but that was out of the question at these big ballroom dances full of formalities and conversations you're forced to sit through, and was sure that Emira felt the same. Considering how easy it had been for Flaithrí to talk to Emira so far despite possessing the social skills of a hermit crab, he believed that best people to talk to are often those who can relate to your situation.

Emira didn't seem as amused by the duck girl as Flaithrí did. She seemed more confused than anything else, if not agitated, but Flaithrí still decided to imitate her. Flaithrí was pleasantly surprised when the girl started laughing. In his mind, everything about this first conversation was perfect. Just like everything perfect does, things started to fall apart.

"So help me?"

Flaithrí's words, as he mimicked what Emira said, was barely audible with a tone of confusion. What made her give up? Flaithrí pondered this question dozens of times before finally turning his attention to the target of her gaze.

It was a Muladi man, and he was wearing silk with intricate embroidery that looked possibly more expensive than anything Flaithrí would wear. The Muladi man was accompanied by a woman whose nationality Flaithrí couldn't immediately deduce from her clothing. A long beige dress accentuated her curves, and Flaithrí thought she was quite attractive.

Did Emira know these people?

Even if Flaithrí were not the most sociable person or if he did not pick up on all the social cues he was supposed to, he would have to be blind as to not see Emira's obvious change in emotion. She probably didn't like the pair if she did know them. Instinctively, Flaithrí moved forward a half step in the two approaching directions, positioning himself slightly in front of Emira. He liked to imagine himself as a knight in shining armour, or cape, in this situation and now was his time to shine.

Before Flaithrí could respond, Emira had already done so. Emira's initial response was blunt and to the point, but then she softened her tone. It was now abundantly clear that this was her first or one of the first times ever in a situation requiring formal etiquette. Emira's focus returned to Flaithrí, suggesting that she was hoping for him to help resolve the tension between them. The problem was that Flaithrí didn't have a clue either, so he did the only thing he could think of to help Emira: he continued to be the gentleman that he had always been.

"Please accept my deepest apologies for the directness of my friend's reply."

Flaithrí thought for a moment about how to say it so as not to offend Emira.

"A ballroom is a new environment for her, and she is unfamiliar with the protocol expected of guests. I have been attempting to help her out but it's a work in progress."

A small nervous chuckle escaped the man's mouth. He decided a white lie would be best in this situation.

Rather than the over-the-top bow of greetings past, he simply bowed when he finished speaking. One arm was propped up on his stomach, and the other was wrapped around the man's lower back. He made sure Emira could see his hand behind his back and the gesture he created, keeping it out of sight of the two newcomers. Whether or not she understood military lingo, he performed a thumbs up gesture (which to an archer meant all is well in medieval times), he hoped that would reassure her. However, Flaithrí's thumbs up was also one that he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine, even though he was only pretending. He felt as though he were babbling like a madman, albeit a well-spoken madman.

"I do hope you'll forgive us."

Although Flaithrí may have inquired, he quickly straightened up after releasing his bow and continued speaking.

"To answer your aforesaid question, you are not interrupting, while we may be conversing the more the merrier, but perhaps introductions may be in order."

Rapidly, Flaithrí swung into a second bow, the same dramatic bow he'd used in his first greeting.

"My name is Flaithrí Mac Giolla Laisrén however, you may call me Faith. If I may be so impolite could I ask your names?"

He made up his mind to give Emira the opportunity of making her own introductions.

If Flaithrí had to describe his current state, it would include a lot of screaming and a voice telling him to keep talking and everything will be fine. Needless to say, nothing was fine, and the young Prince could have been making a fool of himself. He may have said that Emira was unfamiliar with the protocol, but that was true of him as well.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[LieutyXII]

Jian Ishikawa

Interactions: Chatting with Kai ( LyricalLyric )
Mentions: Gazing upon Hallbjorn ( The Grand Fool ) and Asta ( supermartinbros )

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ishikawa. Please, call me Kai. I hail from Anahaly."

Jian hummed quietly to himself, giving the young blonde a nod at the telling of his name. In the back of his mind, he began running through all of the royalty he knew from Anahaly. Sadly, he could only really remember king and queen Galanis. Not all too surprising considering his field. If he couldn't get more info on the man, he'd simply track down his sister later and ask her. She was the diplomatic one.

Jian watched with mild amusement as Kai seemed to have trouble finding a comfortable way to sit at the low Mulada table. He debated on helping him by recommending a seating position but got rid of that thought pretty early. It might come off as disrespectful to baby someone, especially another royal. The general decided to let his eyes wander to the plate towering with food. How he had managed to stack all of that food on one medium-sized plate was beyond Jian. There was a form of rice from Vinsumi layered on the bottom, and some type of meat from Puran he hadn't caught the name of weaving its way around the rice. Then came fruits and vegetables stacked on that and even some seafood that he assumed from his own Kingdom, Anahaly. There was definitely more buried in the stack but Jian didn't get the chance to observe as the man soon had a comfortable seat and was talking again.

"It's not every day you find yourself sampling the foods of all the other kingdoms. Pray tell, what do you recommend first?" His smile was bright and very...real. Maybe it was because of the masquerade and Kai was letting his guard down but...were royals from other kingdoms always so open with each other? It wasn't often Jian got to gaze upon a true smile. Nonetheless, the man asked a question and Jian was about to answer but suddenly, his attention was taken by...a duck?

Looking past Kai, over his shoulder, and further into the ballroom, he watched as a small woman with brown hair and a very strange mask walked around like some kind of waterfowl. She began to make her rounds, passing as close to their table as she could without entering the royal seating area. The prince stifled a small chuckle, opting for a small smirk as she moved by, heading off to another corner of the room. It would seem someone had too much to drink and was now expressing it in a bird-like manner. He supposed that Mulada wine could get strong and addicting and made a note to watch himself, or else he becomes the duck on the dance floor. His eyes lingered, and while he could recognize he was being rude to his guest, It was like an airship crashing into the side of a mountain. He just couldn't look away.

The girl did indeed crash, into a man who could very well pass for a mountain. That same man with the military attire and strange war mask. He attempted to stifle another chuckle, this time it came out as a small laugh that he disguised as a cough. He held his hand, balled up into a fist, to his mouth and went with the small white lie of catching a cough. Once his fit was over, he looked away from the girl finally and back to Kai, hoping he didn't confuse the poor man. "Ah, my apologies. I seemed to have been enraptured in the entertainment of the night. It isn't often one gets to enjoy these festivities after all. It may be that I'm out of practice." He offered a small smile to the man, obviously a practiced and polite smile.

"As for your question, Sir Kai, might I recommend the white rice near the bottom of your plate? It is a staple of Vinsumi and pairs well with many food items. Near the top there, I can also spot some sashimi. As you hail from Anahaly, I'm sure you can appreciate the seafood." Jian moved the bottle of wine slightly more to the center and took one of the fresh glasses sitting to the side. "Shall I pour you a drink? I highly recommend drinking this spiced wine from Mulada. It adds to both the flavor and atmosphere." Another small smile was given as he waited for a response.​

 

[Optimo]

Hunter Harvey-Lottway III

Location	Masquerade - Table in ballroom
Company	Jian and Kaidalar
Tags	LieutyXII LyricalLyric

Hunter stood silently in the middle of the ballroom at a loss of what to do. He began to question himself on why he came. The party was nice, but he didn't see any personal benefits of attending. "I'm here now. Might as well figure out something to do." He scanned the room, his weary eyes landing on two men chatting at a table. His eyes remained on them for a few moments as he contemplated actually going to talk to them. With his mind made up, he made his way over to them. "Good evening, gentlemen. Mind if I join you?" He didn't wait for an answer as he plopped into a seat anyways. He studied the two males. Mostly observing their appearance and body language. A war raged on in his head. One side not wanting to waste time talking to them and the other side wanting to make coming to the ball worth it. After sitting in silence, lost in his own thoughts, Hunter cracked a slight smile. "Hunter." He extended a hand towards the man sitting down across from him, expecting a handshake.

 

[idalie]

Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Mateo
Mentions: BELIAL.

Magnhild of Thirsk​

The additional clasp of the stranger’s hands was a surprise, at least, in its good-natured will and warmth of character⁠—Magnhild’s head turned, avoidant of the fact. Reclaiming her palm, it returned limply to the emptied goblet until her sense returned enough to meet his eyes, “Matching the tablecloth to the napkins? Do you ask women that in private as much as you confound it in public?” She humoured, punctuated by a soft snort and hop of her shoulders; “Ah, but I speak to a man of the court and his heart is well occupied,”

The battle maiden gazed out over the waltzes, traditional Muladi practices, where the meetings of culture and politics banded into a sense of broad tolerance, “Tell me, dancer, have you ever heard the music in the hands of those who haven’t the coin nor good fortune to end up as pedestal players? Or are you so refined in taste it’s all too bitter for you?” Mags inquired with little judgement but intensity of thought, “I like to hear people sing,” She smiled, revealing part of her crooked canine, “Bad singers. Good ones too, but bad singers⁠—when they warble, or a man knows his lute and not his voice.”

Yet to propose Magnhild was among the fascinating in a room of plenty others; war heroes and travellers, nobility and artists alike, the redhead proved taken aback⁠—especially as his glance lingered. The question which followed formed an all the more flattering opinion of the Histadelian, if not a sinking feeling that it would lead into more questions.

Her lips thinned, “My father is a smith, it was a parting gift, on account we might not meet again.” Magnhild consciously raised her fingertip to graze the patch of polished silver. She wished to say it was the only thing he’d ever made her, the only thing of his craft he’d left. Not even the sword he’d folded and ground to a sharp edge was meant for her hands⁠—in all twenty-four years, that patch was the only gift.

Mags shifted from foot to foot with a gentle sway, clearing her throat, “Don’t let me fool you into thinking this is my death march⁠—I’ve simply got my sights elsewhere, and fathers are strange, preemptive creatures when it comes to mortality.”

 

[idalie]

Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Belinha, Flaithrí, Emira
Mentions: Zodia195 Dextra BELIAL.

Ihsan al-Din Sayyed​

Ihsan, who had all the tact of a bull in a china shop, was overjoyed to crash into the middle of ongoing conversation⁠—expressing little grief nor apology, “Interrupt?” Rather, again came that molten laugh which shook the breadth of his shoulders and rumbled in the depths of his chest, even as the Sausren native gave his reeled apologies, “No, no, I did interrupt, she’s right. I’ve a habit of it, bad one⁠—ought to break it, but I’m making my rounds on behalf of the hosts this evening,” The Amir soothed, glancing between Mercedes to the veiled woman and back toward the foreign nobleman, sensing a strange connection between everyone but himself.

A hesitant glance around followed before he resumed his loud and undoubtedly sly introduction, “New to court? Are you sure we haven’t met?” His inquiry aimed toward Emira⁠—something familiar striking him as odd but nevertheless intriguing, “Ah, but of course you must be one of those merchants taking advantage of the recent exports, just remember it's one foot in front of the other and if you slip up, you’ll never be forgotten for it. Terrible, I know, I’m still trying to live mine down.”

With the bow had, Ihsan returned the sentiment as he tipped forward in delicate turn, “Colour me surprised to run into royalty, sahib alsumui,” Straightening up, the Amir gestured over, “My companion, alssyd Basurto, and you might call me Ibrahim Bishara,” His eyes darted toward the Histadelian with a look of intended mischief, creasing toward the corners of the kohl rimmed blue.

Gently letting Mercedes go, his arm wound around the Sasuren prince with a firm squeeze, “And to think I almost missed you, wandering about over here unseen! I’m something of a peddler tonight⁠—entertainment, but don’t mind overstepping my mark into other services I'd never think to make people pay, however being related to important men makes life dull⁠—you must know certainly, I can see it, glazed about the face” The Amir waved vaguely, “Now you and I are surely men of clarity instead of our forefathers, al'amir Faith.”

He lifted his hand upward, “Horses!" Ihsan expressed, boundless in his enthusiasm, "Mind to invest on a bet? Muladi in blood⁠—purebred, every chance of winning yourself and your Mistress over there⁠—no judgement from me, sahib alsumui, sweet little thing that she is, double or nothing and a day at the races. It’s the thrill of it, I tell you, sharp rider I’ve picked too, barely comes up to a grown man’s knee. That's how you know they’re quick, mind, he’s only a boy but a prodigy in the making!”

Ihsan released Flaithrí, firmly brushing his sleeves down where it rumpled, “We haven’t told his mother yet, although it’s a guaranteed win. Smallprint, really.”

sahib alsumui - your highness
al'amir/amir - prince
alssyd - ms.​

 

[The Grand Fool]

Hallbjorn

Location	Masquerade - entering the ballroom
Company	Asta Ariti
Tags	supermartinbros

Sir Prince? That's the most hilarious thing I've ever heard. "Miss, you can adress me as Hallbjorn," he smiled. "I don't really care for titles, seeing I'm third in line and pretty much gonna get nothing for it. And well, it's nice to see you aren't trying to get to personal with people. Although I have to say, you did get quite some attention from some people with your... bird like walking. Especially a certain lady over there," he pointed towards a girl with hair he couldn't tell was dirty blond or brown. The damn light makes it too hard to see. "I also saw you eating like there's no tomorrow, mind leading me over and... showing me the best dishes?"

 

[supermartinbros]

» Asta Ariti

『 The Grand Fool 』

Location : Buffet and Masquerade
Mood(s) : Surprise, Embarrassment and Joy
Mention(s) : Mary
Interaction(s) : Hallbjorn

Even though the prince reassured the girl that it was fine to call him by his first name, she could definitely be punished by the king or queen if she was seen which is why she just smiled, "Haha, well the best I can do is Sir Hallbjorn." she told him, she readjusted the big mask which covered her whole face. Now that she looked at Sir Hallbjorn's mask she could tell it was different from everybody else's like hers and she felt joy that she wasn't the only one different. The moment her bird walking came into the conversation she couldn't help but blush a little from embarrassment heat rising to her cheeks but smiled proudly.

"Was it funny? I was trying to be, but I didn't know people were actually looking at me!" she breathed, surprised. Before she turned to the girl who Sir Hallbjorn was implying. That was the girl she passed by earlier, in that moment when her olive eyes met the blue eyes of the girl she felt an odd yet familiar sensation run up her body, as if she were lured into remembering something, but Asta shook the feeling as familiarity from when they passed each other, smiling at the stranger with... strange clothes... She waved. Not afraid. Despite her mask covering her smile the smile on the mask was almost as if implying she was smiling at the stranger.

The moment 'eating' came out of Sir Hallbjorn's mouth Asta turned to face him once again as if there was nothing else interesting. Her eyes shining brightly. "Def-!" she cleared her throat trying to appear more proper, "Of course, I would love too! Though... I may start eating... Again." she giggled. Before then waiting for the gentlemen since it would be rude to go ahead. "But again, I have a very wide range of food that I like so I hope it isn't strange for Sir Hallbjorn." despite the way she talked or her manners in front of the prince it seemed she wasn't intentionally disrespect him for anything simply trying to enjoy a moment with the prince of Ajna.

code by @Nano

 

[Zodia195]

Location: Masquerade Ball
Company: Faithri Dextra , Emira BELIAL. , Ihsan idalie ​

Belinha blushed a bit in embarrassment when the Muladi woman mentioned that they did interrupt her and the other gentlemen. It was a good thing she had a mask on, and she was tanned enough for it to not be noticeable. Then the lady tried to speak in a more polite manner, and Belinha felt bad for her. She could have a temper on her in certain situations so she really couldn't fault her.

Then the gentlemen spoke and Belinha had a hard time following him. She didn't even pick up the question towards her and her companion. Instead, she focused more on what he was wearing. Very elegant that was for sure. Belinha didn't recognize what kingdom he was from, only he wasn't from Histadel or Mulada. He also looked a bit more refined, whereas Hassan came off as more flamboyant. Still their attires were very high quality and at this point Belinha wouldn't be surprised if they were royalty.

Her attention was brought back to the conversation at hand when Hassan started talking. He first addressed the lady before speaking to the other gentleman. He also said words that Belinha understand. Soon he introduced himself with a different name and instantly Belinha see he was lying or was that his real name and he had lied about his real name originally? It didn't bother Belinha. This was a masked ball after all. She caught his look at her, and she winked at him when he did that. The rest of the conversation just confused Belinha all over again. What was 'Hassan' talking about? She got the horses part, but that was it.

A little frustrated, Belinha finally spoke up and says, "Obviously you two know each other to speak so casually, Sir Ibrahim."

She emphasized that last part with a grin on her face and looked at the other man, "Your attire is very well-made sir. Might I inquire where you're from? I am from Histadel and come from a family of weavers, so I know good fabric when I see it."

Not wanting to exclude the other lady, she turned back to her, "And you look amazing in that gown too. I couldn't pull off something like that, I don't have the curves for it hehe."

---

Location: Masquerade Ball

Company: Stella aurivee_

Unlike Stella, Noirin didn't fully look around. She was focusing on what was in front of her, all the while talking about Sasuren.

"Well, I live in the capital city. It's a very unique city for it's spread over several islands close together. The palace is located the highest island, which is anchored to the other islands. The Royal observatory and National Library are on the same island as the palace. My father works at the Observatory and the library is my fav place to visit. I've always loved reading. I actually haven't traveled that much around the kingdom though due to my studies. I did take an educational excursion once to Amethyst Falls it has multiple waterfalls there that fall into a lake on another island. You'd think the lake would have overflowed, but it hasn't, and our researchers are trying to figure it out. The water here is also violet, hence why it's called Amethyst Falls. It's another mystery to the area, the fact that the water is violet. There is a legend that the Sasuren founder, Astelle herself, blessed it and turned it violet. I could keep going, but I would probably bore you."

Deciding to stop, she soon came across her mother and someone who would be recognizable anywhere, the legendary mage, Andun. He was wearing green and blue robes and just radiated power. Everyone knew who Andun was. Soon her mother noticed her, said something to Andun, and the pair approach them.

"Hello, Noirin, who's your friend?" she asked, sending Stella a kind smile.

"Hello mother, hello Lord Andun. This is Stella, she's from Puran. Stella, this my mother Lady Ingrid. I am sure Lord Andun needs no introduction to you."

Andun chuckled before answering, "It's nice to meet you, Stella. I was in Puran several months ago. There always seem to be something new there every time I visit. And it's good to see you again, Noirin. Last time I saw you, you were clinging to your mother's skirts hehe. You've grown into a lovely young woman."

His compliment caused Noirin to blush and look away. She didn't think she was that pretty, especially compared to her sisters and other female relatives. She had a very slim and willow frame like her mother, so didn't have much in the curve department.

Andun saw that Noirin still had her shy demeanor. He would have seen her more, but the girl had always been shy and didn't like getting out much. Every time he visited Sasuren, the royal family kept throwing a ball for him in his honor. He kept protesting, but there was nothing he could do, so he finally gave up. The nobility was invited to these balls, especially those associated with the royal family, and with Noirin's father working at the Royal Observatory, the Fitzpatricks were always in attendance. His thoughts soon wavered back to what he'd been thinking for the entirety of the festival, something was off. Especially tonight, the atmosphere seems to stir. He was wary and would keep his instincts on alert.

Turning back to Stella, he questioned her, "Have you been enjoying the festival?"

---

Back outside, the lone figure on top of a building had magic spheres up, each with an image of Emira, Belinha, Stella, Asta, Mary, Magnhild, and Noirin. Pulling her hood back, it was revealed to be a white hair woman with eyes that changed color.

"Incienda, please protect these children for world will soon depend on them."​

​

 

[BELIAL.]

PRINCE MATEO MONTEIRO

Location	Masquerade - ballroom
Company	Magnhild
Tags	idalie

He liked that Magnhild held some humour. Too often were noble ladies better fitted with their empty laughs at jokes that never deserved it, or those around him gave their absent stares without any idea of what Mateo was speaking of. Reciprocating those jokes, and a lighter tone, made him feel at ease-- that he was not to be expected to hold the entirety of the conversation on his own, or fall victim to the silences of misspoken words.

Sparing a look over his shoulder, Mateo sought the crowd to find his half-brothers’ eyes. Between the moving bodies and the fact that they may very well have moved away, he gave up his attempt in half the time he took to take to it.

Returning to Magnhild, and her questioning of his interest in music. He did not blame her for holding judgement, though it was enough to give him a small pout to be thought of so superficially.

“Not at all, my lady. I find any tune, by any man, enough to feel it within myself. I’d not judge a man for how he plays, be it so incredibly well or based purely off his instincts… But for how much he feels it.” Mateo offered, shrugging his shoulders to bolster his intent. Truthfully, he enjoyed all avenues of music. Dance, culture, and the nuances that court life could forget about; he found it all worth finding. Searching out how far the villages go in Histadel, seeing how the rain beats against their windows, how they dine with family, it all mattered to him. They were never the same, and he found himself learning more than he ought to have.

Mateo tried to see past Magnhild’s icy exterior at the mention of her father and his parting gift. The peculiarities of people were never able to be read by Mateo, finding himself often unaware or encroaching too far on such subject matters.

Her final comment, on the mortality of fathers, made a small hole burrow in Mateo’s gut. He wished it away with a swallow and a smile, easing his own fears before risking the implications of such a topic on his new company.

“Well, wherever you go, I hope you find what it is you are looking for. The world is wide as it is wondrous, and I’m sure there will be many songs to hear as well.”

His grin deepened. Then in a fraction of a second, it fell, and he shook his head quickly.

“Oh, but my manners-- damn it all. I’ve not introduced myself-- M…,” Mateo said in a rapid breath, then pausing all at once. “Hm… You know, something tells me you aren’t one to entertain the anonymity for tonight. The masks are a great excuse for people to sniff where they shouldn’t, and to bother those they shouldn’t-- I suppose my honesty is the least I could give to you after the foolish approach I’d taken.”

His smile returned. “Please, call me Mateo. Formalities… Well, we needn’t bother. So, now you must tell me-- do wanderers such as yourself often find themselves within palaces; at balls to be specific, when I’ve no doubt they’d rather be anywhere else?”

 

[BELIAL.]

EMIRA

Location	Masquerade - ballroom
Company	Flaithrí , Ihsan , Belinha, (Random Muladi Woman)
Tags	Dextra idalie Zodia195

While Emira had wanted Faith to be able to take control of the situation, she hadn’t expected the blame to so quickly fall on her. While her face had turned scarlet from her attempt at remedying the quickness of her response, truly it began to burn now as Faith continued on that Emira was unfamiliar, and direct. The latter was a trait that she’d heard far too much from those in her tribe, that she was far too direct in times that should be soft-- and not enough in times that needed it. The way Faith had phrased it seemed to be in an attempt to smooth things over, but it left Emira with a glare between her brows down at the ground. Chewing at her cheek she shook her head, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at how quickly things had gotten so perfumed and superfluous. Everyone talked too much.

Her eyes flickered to the thumb that Faith stuck up behind his back. Immediately she thought that it was a direction to look up, and quickly her head snapped up to the ceiling. Pretty starlight peeked through the skylights, but she wasn’t sure why he’d motioned in such a way.

Confused yet again, she fought to keep her own attention on the situation at hand. She liked Faith far more when he wasn’t spilling twined braid words into the ears of others.

Her glare was better suited to the man in his full mask, the Muladi resident, who seemed keen to recognize Emira despite the fact that he was very clearly obscuring his own appearance. He spoke without the embellishment that Faith had, a trait of his culture no doubt, but the man, this Ibrahim, spoke so fast she swore he’d start smoking from his lips if he kept it up.

Though, very quickly, as she fought to process what was being said, her own eyebrows snapped up to her forehead when Ibrahim called Faith royalty. Royalty? Surely she had some mind to know that masquerades would involve masks, and identities, but it felt a little annoying to her that that very important detail would be glossed over. She did not care that he was a royal-- but she had no doubt made a bigger fool of herself now, not knowing this. It put her on the offense, combined with the feeling that came from looking at the other girl, and Emira was a half of a breath away from taking off in a mad dash for the exit.

Her eyes fully rolled now once the Muladi man was becoming quite comfortable with Faith. No doubt this man was some merchant himself, with his quick tongue and his ease of personality. That, or some scheming back-alley handler, the type that her father had warned her about when coming to the cities for trade.

Ignoring the men as they spoke, Emira thought to look elsewhere. Catching the eye of some other woman in the room, this time lacking in the head spinning feeling, she saw the other woman’s eyes bulge. Emira, frowning, wasn't sure at all this time if that reaction was for her. She’d thought otherwise before, and had been wrong-- who was this woman?

Brought back as the woman, Basurto, addressed the fashion of the two, Emira couldn’t help but hark out a laugh. It was not a malevolent laugh, but so caught off guard by the attention to detail. She spoke of curves, though Emira wasn’t sure where the dress ended and she began at that point. Shrugging, Emira waved a hand-- the one that bore dirtied, bloodied bandages around her knuckles and palm. Emira thought nothing of it as she spoke.

“Oh, this,” Emira harked her best, fake, haughty laugh. She felt quite annoyed being here now, more than she had been petrified before. “Just… some… dirty laundry from the line.”

Fighting the urge to burst into real, belly-aching laughter, Emira suddenly felt a presence behind her. A strong grip grabbed at her wrist, yanking her back half a step. With wild eyes Emira addressed the stranger, who was a woman in a stunning blue veil and gown: an ensemble that was stitch for stitch a replica of Emira’s, save for the colour.

“I recognized that gown from across the room! The dirty laundry you say, you thief? MY dirty laundry-- and NOT dirty, for your information, but having been freshened up for tonight’s BALL. That you WEAR. Admit your crime now, before I drag you to the guards myself.” The woman bit and chewed at her words, her gaze flickering between the others in the group, as she yanked and pulled at Emira.

“And what, take it off my body here? Don’t be stupid,” Emira said sharply, earning a scoff and a sharp breath from the woman.

 

[aurivee_]

Stella Ainsley
The Masquerade
Interacting with: Noirin Zodia195 (indirect), NPCs

---

As Noirin spoke of her homeland, Stella listened curiously. Sasuren sounded like such an interesting place. Maybe she'd head there after the festival's conclusion - surely she'd be able to find work there.

"No, don't worry! I wouldn't get bored at all. I love learning about the other nations. Sasuren seems so cool!" Her eyes shone with enthusiasm as she replied.

Suddenly, Noirin came to a stop in front of two people, each with aura of sheer power and eloquence. One of them, she recognized very well - the legendary mage, Ardun. The other was introduced to her by Noirin as Lady Ingrid. Though she was slightly intimidated - these were very powerful people, after all - it didn't show on her face at all, masked by her enthusiastic demeanor.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," she said, dipping into a respectful curtsy.

A few moments later, she was addressed by Ardun. Giving a nod, she responded. "I've been feeling a little off this week, but other than that, I've enjoyed the festival greatly. It's been wonderful, learning more about the other nations. I hope to visit all of them someday."

 

[Dextra]

Flaithrí

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

• .
• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• home (filler tab)
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  mood

  
  
  
  
  

  WHY AM I HERE JUST TO SUFFER.

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  outfit

  click

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  location

  
  
  
  
  

  Ballroom, Mulada

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  interactions

  
  
  
  
  

  Emira, Ihsan, Belinha

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  tags

  
  
  
  
  

  BELIAL. idalie Zodia195

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  filler

  
  
  
• home (filler tab)

The Beatles

Help!

"this is a dialogue,"

Ibrahim Bishara, as he was now known to Flaithrí , was a brash, loud, and voluble man. Flaithrí had been making notes about this man's speech pattern in his head. Flaithrí immediately thought of Emira due to this man's unusual behaviour, but it was clear that he was no novice in the ballroom. He considers the possibility that this is how people from Mulada behave in the ballroom, and if so, he should apologise to Emira for being so abrupt with her earlier.

Flaithrí stared at the man with wide eyes. What? Did he just say that? Flaithrí certainly hadn't tried to hide the fact that he was a member of a royal family. In light of his recent observation that most people alter their behaviour in the presence of royalty, he was eager to gain insight into people's true natures as opposed to the pretences they typically displayed when interacting with the aristocracy. His mouth made a clicking sound as a sign of his irritation. And this was yet another thing for which he would need to apologise to Emira. He was debating whether or not he should just run away, or whether it would be easier to stay put.

As the prince considered running away, it was as if Ibrahim had read his mind, and he found himself being manhandled, if you count having an arm wrapped around you as such. At that point, Flaithrí's brain had completely shut down, and he stood there frozen, wishing he could simply disappear. His internal state of complete panic had begun to show on the outside. There was a noticeable increase in the rate of his breathing, a dry sensation in his throat, a general warming of his body, and a trickle of sweat.

Even though Flaithrí's full focus was on Ibrahim, he seemed unable to understand what he was saying. After picking up a few stray words, he was able to piece together what Ibrahim was peddling. It involved horses, a wager, and a young rider whose mother was unaware of his talent. Flaithrí eventually put together that the man was talking about betting on horses.

Flaithrí couldn't argue against the possibility that a day at the races would be entertaining. In particular, to compare the horses of the Sasuren with those of the Mulada, two cultures with strong ties to the equine species. The young man's mind started to fill up with concepts. Perhaps he could return to Sasuren with new information about Mulada horses and use some of their training and breeding methods to try to better Sasuren's own breed of horses. A glimmer of excitement and curiosity lit up the young prince's eyes as the idea raced through his head. His thirst for knowledge slowly took over his anxiety.

"Horses… you say?"

Flaithrí spoke with less assurance than he usually did. As he cleared his throat, Flaithrí looked into Ibrahim's eyes. From what Flaithrí had seen of Ibrahim so far, he seemed to be brash, energetic, and a smooth talker; however, the look in his eyes suggested that he did not intend any harm.

"Sir Ibrahim, if I may first correct an unfortunate interpolation, she's not my mistress, but a friend."

As Flaithrí looked at Emira, he began to blush and he let out a second, very small cough.

"Now onto business."

Flaithrí adjusted his monocle, pulled out a large coin purse, opened it, and began rummaging around, displaying the glittering gold and silver inside.

"If a wager were to be made, how much do you think is reasonable?"

Flaithrí stopped abruptly, carefully closing his coin purse, and looked at Ibrahim with that familiar twinkle in his eye.

"Allow me to be more blunt in my question, how much of a contribution would be required to visit the stable where such a well-bred horse was born, or to meet with the trainer? If we could swap knowledge, we could raise the bar for horse breeding in both countries."

Flaithrí was so engrossed in his conversation that he forgot he was in the company of others when he heard Ibrahim's partner, Ms. Basurto. After this discovery, he felt terrible about being so impolite. Following Ibrahim's mild criticism, a broad grin spread across his face. Flaithrí couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the way she said his name; it sounded almost as if she were emphasising it on purpose, but maybe it was just the way she talked.

"A family of weavers you say?"

Flaithrí's eyebrows cocked in a curious way.

"You must tell me where your family's store is, because if they can make someone as beautiful as you, then I know their wares must be simply breathtaking."

He learned early on that flattery was the best way to win someone over.

"Oh, how impolite of me to tell you my name but not my origin! Since the cat is out of the bag I guess there is no reason to mask it."

As those final words left Flaithrí's mouth, he cast a glance of irritation in Ibrahim's direction.

"I am from Sasuren, and as Sir Ibrahim so kindly pointed out, I am a prince. I apologise for keeping this from you all, but I find it easier to converse if people don't feel like they're walking on eggshells, so please treat me as you would a friend."

Everything was going swimmingly. In Flaithrí's opinion, he had managed to navigate the conversation with everyone and was actually having a good time. But, as is always the case, everything good has a negative side.

A loud, brazen woman had the audacity not only to interrupt the group's conversation but also to accuse Emira of stealing. It was ridiculous. Flaithrí was about to express his outrage when Emira's reaction caught him off guard. Did she possibly steal it? He hesitated for a moment before taking a quick glance around the room. It appeared that a few people had overheard the argument and began muttering to themselves, the gossipy side of ballrooms, which he never wanted to be a part of, let alone at the centre of. He needed to get this over with as soon as possible.

"We seem to be attracting quite a bit of attention, so please excuse me, a bhean chóir; perhaps it would be best to resolve this in a more subtle manner for the sake of everyone's reputation. In exchange for your time and the cost of the garment, I would be eternally grateful if you would be so kind as to forgive dear Emira for the error in judgement she has made. Set your own price, please."

He took a step toward the women and leaned forward, positioning his head next to one of the women's ears so that only the people immediately around them could hear what he was saying.

"Of course, you're under no obligation to accept my generous offer; if you decline, we'll find out whether your reputation or a diplomatic incident is more valuable. You must realise that having a prince, even of a different nation, on your side is a huge advantage."

It was a bluff, a bribe, and not a good look for Flaithrí if he said so himself.

Two things were certain to him: he would do anything to protect anyone he considered a friend, and his father would approve. 'Be merciful with one hand while concealing a dagger with the other,' was Brannus Mac Giolla Laisrén's motto, and while Flaithrí disagreed with much of what his father stood for, he could always see logic in that.

Flaithrí took a couple of steps back and bowed to the women. Giving the familiar thumbs-up gesture to Emira.

"Has a decision been reached, a Bhean chóir?"

a bhean chóir - My Lady

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[The Grand Fool]

Hallbjorn

Location	Masquerade - buffet
Company	Asta Ariti
Tags	supermartinbros

The prince laughed. "I might be able to stand that," he smirked under the mask.
"I might seem like a grumpy fellow, but I am definitely not a picky eater," he smiled under the mask. Following her over to the buffet. He stopped when she mentioned she didn't think people would notice her. Stretching out his arms he laughed, trying to say something coherently. "Didn't *gasp* think that *gasp* you'd you'd *gasp* be seen *gasp*" His face hurt from all the smiling. "Young lady, I can assure you, this is the most I've smiled and laughed for several years. That's a grand accomplishment. I might just kidnap you and take you to Ajna to be my royal jester." Of course he was joking, and the satire was written on his face, but of course his mask was covering it all.

Once at the buffet, he whistled at the amount of food. Looking down, he realized he couldn't eat anything with his mask. It covered his mouth unlike the other mask wearers. Another reason why he chose stupidly. His stomach growled, protesting against the torture that was being delt. "Fair lass, I just realized, that I won't be able to eat until Midnight. My mask has no opening for my mouth. And taking it off before midnight would be impolite." He grimaced at his quandary.

 

[Zodia195]

Location: Masquerade Ball

Company: Stella aurivee_ ​

Andun chuckled and smile at the young Puranian's response.

"Hopefully someday you will," he replied.

"Have you two seen the fragments yet? It'll be midnight soon," Lady Ingrid said.

"Oh! No, I haven't mother. I knew there was something I wanted to do. I kept putting off seeing them during the festival." Noirin admitted.

Her excuse had been because of the huge crowds. This time she would do her best to see them, or at least see the Amethyst fragment. It was considered a royal treasure and other then the festival, the only times it was showed in public was at royal coronations. Noirin had never gotten a chance to see the Amethyst the one time she went to the festival. It was one thing she did regret.

"Why don't the pair of you go check them out now hmm? They're in the next room behind us." Andun said.

"All right. You can come with me if you like, Stella." Noirin offered

After getting an affirmative answer, the duo went into the next room and sure enough there was a huge crowd around the fragments. There were soldiers hand-picked from each kingdom keeping an eye on the fragments. Each was on top of a pedestal and floated mid-air. They were covered by glass containers. The pedestals formed a circle and there were rope barriers in front of them. At least people were constantly moving for there seem to be an unseen agreement to allow others to see the fragments. Somehow as they tried getting closer though, Noirin got separated from Stella. The first fragment she came across was the Jade fragment. She was able to get a clear view of the fragment. The shape of the fragment unusual, it was easy to see it was a part of something bigger. Moving along she saw the Aquamarine and Sapphire, but something happened when she came upon the Amethyst fragment.

Noirin was instantly entranced by it. Before she even knew it, she was someplace else or at least appeared to be. She was in a vast library, and it was the biggest she ever seen. Wondering where she was, she walked amongst the sections of the library before coming upon a lavender hair woman sitting in a big armchair reading something. Curious, Noirin came closer and saw the woman was reading a large book in an unknown language she never heard or seen before. Suddenly the words came clear to her, and she could read it. The lady was reading aloud and said the words perfectly from the book. The lady suddenly stopped and looked at Noirin with violet eyes that seemed ancient and deep.

"Wisdom is not merely attained through knowledge. It mostly comes through experiences and what we learn from them. Your spirit must be strong for what's to come for it's the ultimate source of all things, including wisdom. Go and find your true self." The lady said as she and the library disappeared.

During this whole time, Noirin had gone into a trance and the instant the vision ended, she fainted. There was gasping around her as people wondered what had happened and word would quickly spread like wildfire.

 

[supermartinbros]

» Asta Ariti

『 The Grand Fool 』

Location : Buffet and Masquerade
Mood(s) : Laughter, Joy and Confused
Mention(s) : Noirin
Interaction(s) : Hallbjorn

The young woman gave Sir Hallbjorn a thumbs up when he said he was fine with it and smiled underneath her white clay mask. When he said he was not a picky a hint of competition glinted in the olive-eyed girl. She gave a cheeky grin behind her mask, looking at his build he could definitely seem like he could eat a lot, she suddenly had the urge to have a food competition with the prince, but then chiding herself that he was a prince in her mind, she decided not to ask. Walking toward the buffet suddenly Sir Hallbjorn stopped and began laughing which Asta looked confused for a second before he told her. Asta began laughing as well, smiling.

Asta grinned when he said he might kidnap her, at first that may seem like a simple task to the prince but Asta was sure this prince wouldn't do that. "Hmmm... Doesn't sound too bad... I mean as a jester I can make jokes all day without being yelled at." she giggled before telling him, "But even if you were serious or even joking I would have to decline as I have a twin to take care of." she responded.

The mask situation seemed to be quite a pity all Asta could suggest was, "Perhaps you can slide your mask? I did that, and it works like a charm, if not... Perhaps we can inhale the flavor of the food?" she joked. But then sudden gasps caught the attention of the certain young lady she turned her head toward where there was beginning a commotions there was a few frightened squeals, Asta looked at the prince, "I-I will be right back!" she shouted at him as she picked her long dress by the skirt and began to run toward the commotion. Squeezing through the people she spotted a certain fair lady, with light blond hair on the ground, perhaps passed out.

Asta felt her eyes widen, sweat ran down her forehead, she quickly knelt down not caring whether people stared or not, she quickly checked to see if the lady was breathing, which, thankfully she was. "Excuse me, alright you alright Miss? Miss?" she asked, she looked around to see the fragments surrounding them, in a circle. What had happened? The people didn't seem as if they would move from their spot. Looking around the area there was nothing dangerous just the fragments which she had heard before.

Just then the certain green eyes spotted a Jade fragment, instantly her body tensed cold sweat running down her body, as she felt her muscles tense. Her breathing halting. Soon enough the image of the ballroom faded away into a strange place. The place... Was a beach but Asta quickly tried searching for the girl. Putting her hands through the smooth sands. But she was nowhere to be seen. Was she daydreaming? No, it wasn't like this.

This was more like a dream, she stood up to see a lady with green hair looking at the ocean the opposite direction from the brunette. Asta looked at her, "Excuse me, I am sorry to interrupt but where are we, if I may ask? H-Have you seen a certain lady here? I fear she needs help."

Turning around was a beautiful lady with green hair, green eyes, and a attire only a queen would have. Mesmerized, Asta could not say a word but tried asking again before a gentle hand touched her cheek. She felt images flash into her eyes in a split second, before she felt a soft tear running down her cheek, surprised Asta wiped it away, but she felt a deep sadness in her heart and a painful love, as if a hole was made. Asta looked up once more to see the woman smiling gently.

"Young child, love is beautiful, just like the sea at times it can be calm, at times it can be rough like a storm. During those violent times of the sea you must be the one to calm it, it will be painful. Truly. Sometimes you will find bitter love which you may find painful... But you must have a strong heart, child. Understand others, give strength to others. Finally, be strong." she murmured, soft and gentle eyes staring into the young bright eyes. Soon enough the beach began fading away from the corner of Asta's eyes, the woman slowly fading away with a smile.

Asta snapped out of her trance like state, her body losing all tension her head feeling the sudden rush of dizziness, her vision blurred. "I... I'm going... to faint..." she whispered before falling to the ground next to the blonde haired girl.

code by @Nano

 

[aurivee_]

Stella Ainsley
The Masquerade / The Skies of Puran (dream sequence)
Mentions: Noirin, Asta

---

"I'd love to!" With a sparkle of curiosity and enthusiasm in her eyes, she followed Noirin over to the display.

With the night being almost over, many of the partygoers had taken the opportunity to view the fragments. A crowd had gathered around the pedestals on which the fragments were displayed. Rope barriers prevented the crowd from getting too close.

As the duo attempted to make their way through the tight crowd, Stella realized that Noirin was no longer beside her. She took a moment to look for her companion, but could not make her out in the sea of masked figures, dressed to the nines. She worried for a second that she'd messed up, that Noirin had taken the opportunity to escape - but quickly reassured herself that this wasn't the case. Noirin had seemed to be enjoying her company, and with how crowded this section of the room was, they were bound to get separated.

The first fragment that she noticed was the Jasper fragment and its striking red hue. It was obvious that it was but a piece of a much larger stone - jagged edges and sharp corners made that clear.

Her eyes fell onto the Carnelian fragment next, this one possessing a bright orange tone. Like the Jasper fragment, it also appeared to be a piece of something bigger.

Before she could continue her tour of the display, two soft thumps from her right - one after the other, like something falling to the floor - caught her attention, followed by gasps and hushed whispers.

Her head whipped around to check the source of the sudden commotion. However, before she could see what had happened, her gaze - not even consciously, almost involuntarily - diverted to the next fragment in line, the Citrine fragment.

For a moment, she was confused. She hadn't meant to look there, had she?

That confusion quickly turned to panic as she realized she couldn't look away.

It was as if she no longer had control of her body. Something pulled at her heart and mind - similar to what she'd felt earlier, but different. Different in that it was a hundred times stronger.

As she stared at the fragment, the pull on her heart seemed to shift to pull at her entire being. She tried to call for help, but the only thing that escaped her vocal cords was a distressed cry before the room around her dissipated into ethereal orbs of soft golden light.

---

The sky really was beautiful today.

The sun was high in the sky, with fluffy white clouds obscuring most of the ground below. The wind whipped through her hair and blew at her clothing. Truly, there was nothing better than this - soaring through the skies of Puran on this magnificent, idyllic day, without a care in the world.

Wait. This wasn't right. Why was she in the sky? And why was she flying?

Well, flying wasn't really the right word for it. It was more like the winds were carrying her, keeping her aloft and moving.

But why was she here? What was happening? Where did the ballroom go? How was this even possible?

She had no time to ponder the thousand questions swirling through her mind, as an unfamiliar (yet, familiar at the same time) voice rang out from in front of her.

"Hey! You're finally here! I've been waiting for you for forever!" The voice laughed, their smile audible in their voice.

Upon looking to the source of the voice, Stella saw a young woman flying in front of her, beaming with joy and vigor. The woman was dressed in white, and had long, wavy blonde hair that flowed in the wind behind her. Something about her radiated pure youthful energy and passion.

Stella felt like she should recognize this woman. Like she had many times that night (day?), she felt that lingering sense of familiarity and connection.

"Who- who are you? Where are we? What's going on? How am I flying?"

The young woman gave her a sweet smile. "I know it sounds weird, but you're not really flying right now. You will soon, though! I can promise you that."

Her expression changed slightly, her smile taking on an almost bittersweet and wistful tone. "There's a great, big world out there waiting for you. And there's so many things you can do! It might seem overwhelming right now, but I know you'll be able to find your calling. Remember: your path doesn't choose you. You choose it for yourself. Make the choice you find most fulfilling."

Stella felt the winds around her stop carrying her forward, bringing her to a stop. Beneath her, they kept her afloat, swirling around her body. The woman also came to a stop, turning towards her.

Taking Stella's hands, the woman spoke once more. "The world needs you now. You're going to do amazing. Keep faith in yourself - you are capable of anything you set your mind to."

The woman let go of Stella's hands, and began to float backwards. "Good luck out there!" With her lively smile returning, she waved at Stella, before turning and flying off into the horizon. As the woman grew more and more distant, the scene once again began to fade into that same golden light. She felt herself rapidly ascending for a moment, before the skies around her faded entirely.

---

Though her vision was blurry and unclear, Stella could make out the familiar details of the ballroom and the fragments on display. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, stumbling slightly.

With her gaze no longer locked on the yellow crystal, she looked to her right to see two familiar figures, unconscious on the ground. One, she could vaguely identify as Noirin. The other was one of the girls that she'd seen earlier, that she'd felt some sort of connection with. Both were passed out in front of a fragment pedestal.

Before she could think about what this meant, her vision began to fade further. She felt her knees give way beneath her as everything went black.

 

[LieutyXII]

Jian Ishikawa

Interactions: Kaidalar ( LyricalLyric ) and Hunter ( Optimo )
Mentions: N/a





Jian was in the midst of popping the cork on a fresh bottle of wine, intending on enticing Kai with it when they were both interrupted by another man. He was the one Jian noticed earlier, causing a bit of a scene by the drink table. Now, he was looming over their own table looking a tad annoyed. Perhaps the earlier incident stayed on the man's mind? Cocking an eyebrow, he waited for the man to speak.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Mind if I join you?" He spoke with an even tone, making Jian easily recognize that the man wasn't nervous in the slightest. So he was a royal, was he? Jian hadn't exactly pegged the man to be the type, but surely he wouldn't have wandered over here was it not true. Humming to himself, Jian waged the options of letting the man sit, or perhaps shooing him off under the guise of Kai and himself busy. In all honesty, the Vinsumi prince heavily leaned on the latter. Vinsumi politics heavily relied on relationship building and creating partnerships. They would often apply soloing tactics and talk with potential partners on their own to form a natural bond. While Jian wasn't a fan of the art of the deal, he would be beside himself if he let this opportunity with Kai slip from his hands. Nodding to himself, he spoke with a weighty voice, calm and friendly but filled with authority. "Ah, I'm sorry bu-...eh?"

The general cut off his words as he only now realized that the man had already taken a seat. "Um...right. Please, join us. I was just about to pour my friend here a glass of wine." He smiled shutting his eyes as his face formed into a gentle brotherly look. His smile was soft and trusting, making it seem as though Jian had known these two men his entire life. "Would you care for a glass yourself sir...?"

Under the table, Jian furiously clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm, just enough to leave indentations. How frustrating! This...man had simply ignored just about every rule of greeting out there. Interrupting their conversation selfishly, inserting himself, and overall just a lack of tact! Had Jian been alone, he'd be grinding his teeth in annoyance right about now and resisting the urge, even more, to tell the man off. This was another royal? From a kingdom, he didn't know, mind you, but he and Kai were very different from the get-go. He silently cursed himself for never reaching out and meeting other royals when he could. Opportunities were there, but he simply shunned them away in favor of training. Silently, deeper inside, Jian envied the man. In less than five seconds, he'd shown more of his true self than Jian had in years. He wished he could do the same sometimes, but it just wasn't in the cards for him.​

"Hunter." Once again, Jian's thoughts were interrupted by the one who plagued them. Now he was smiling himself. Hunter? That screamed Puran royal blood. Their king was named Hunter after all. Was it not his third child that he named Hunter? Some sort of golden child? Jian made a note mentally to look up a bit of Puran's recent history so he may catch up on his so-called 'rivals'. Reaching forward, the white-haired man held his hand for a handshake. Handshaking wasn't as foreign in Vinsumi as some may come to believe through gossip, especially for those of higher birth. Handshaking was certainly a universal thing now with how many barriers are broken during trade and cooperation. Moving his sleeve slightly, he reached forward with the hand he wasn't clenching earlier, taking the man's hand into a firm handshake. "A pleasure Hunter. You may call me Jian." His eyes shot to Kai. "This here is Kai. While we haven't talked much, we were in the middle of discussing different food. You're welcome to indulge in our little cultural exchange." He chuckled a bit to himself, lifting his sleeve up to cover his mouth out of respect.

Movement caught his eyes to the right. People moved quickly to the main hall. Dancers were being interrupted, heads were swiveling, and if one were to listen, they'd hear gasps of shock echoing in unison. Had something happened? If it were someone simply removing their mask or causing a small scene, it would have quickly been swept under the rugs but this seemed a tad more serious. Many people were gossiping, eyes darting toward the main hall. Sighing, he stretched his legs slightly and stood up. Looking down at the men, he gave them a small bow in apology. "Now doesn't seem to be a good time for chatting. People speak, and if they were to see three royals chatting away and doing nothing during an event, well, you could imagine." He frowned, not caring about putting up his usual 'happy mask' and instead curiously apprehensive about the situation going forth.

Not waiting for the other two, Vinsumi prince moved forward. Gracefully weaving around the crowd, he approached the main bulk of the attendees. Something was going on in the room that housed the seven stones. He doubted that one was stolen. That room was armed to the teeth. Guards of all kingdoms were stationed, preventing any type of mutiny by one sole kingdom. Looks like his efforts would be in getting past the crowd. Thankfully, it seemed many were dispersing.​